"The werewolf," he screamed.
As if in answer to the call, Black Bart raced across the room. Twice the revolver sounded from the hand of Purvis. Then a shadow leaped from the floor. There was a flash of white teeth, and Purvis lurched to one side and dropped, screaming terribly. The door banged. Suddenly there was silence. The clatter of a galloping horse outside drew swiftly away.
"Dan!"
"Here!"
"Thank God!"
"Buck, one got away! If it was Silent—Here! Bring some matches."
Someone was dragging himself towards the door in a hopeless effort to escape. Several others groaned.
"You, there!" called Buck. "Stay where you are!"
The man who struggled towards the door flattened himself against the floor, moaning pitifully.
"Quick," said Dan, "light a match. Morris's posse is at my heels. No time. If Silent escaped——"
A match flared in the hands of Buck.
"Who's that? Haines!"
